


hey player two

by evercelle (amagnetism)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Let's Play, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 17:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13722213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amagnetism/pseuds/evercelle
Summary: Two chairs drawn up to Hajime’s desk didn’t leave a lot of space, especially since they were both tall; Oikawa, the leggy bastard, had alternated between tangling his feet with Hajime’s, and childishly kicking him in the ankles whenever he’d been losing. It was funny then, but Hajime wished fervently now that he could get up, or at leaststretch.They’d been streaming nearly nonstop for eight hours today, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, knee-to-knee.And then he could escape the gloating that was definitely, one-hundred-percent positively about to take place.





	hey player two

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlannaRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlannaRose/gifts).



> This is the fic portion of my gift for Alanna through the [HQ Valentine Exchange!!](https://hqvalentineexchange.tumblr.com) I went with your prompt **pro gamer/let's play AU** and this sweet, sweet tropey monster was born. Alanna, I hope you enjoy the art+fic as much as I enjoyed making this for you!
> 
> [View the accompanying artwork for this gift fic on my tumblr!](http://evercelle.tumblr.com/post/171008644925/hey-player-two-read-on-ao3-two-chairs-drawn-up-to)

Hajime had a lot of crap all over his desk. He wasn't a terribly organized person, so the already minimal workspace was covered by stray controllers, scattered snack bags, and an enormous tangle of cables that almost certainly represented a fire hazard waiting to happen. Rising from this desk detritus like some sort of primordial giant was a thirty-two inch monitor, Hajime’s main screen for streaming or recording PC and console game videos. It was a 4k IPS monitor, it was his pride and joy, and currently it was merrily parading the emblem of Oikawa’s glee and Hajime’s dread, because a fireball graphic blazed across its glorious display, obnoxiously flashing _P1 WIN!!_

Hajime wasn’t player one.

Crammed close beside him, Oikawa was scribbling with difficulty on a notepad balanced on one knee. Two chairs drawn up to Hajime’s desk didn’t leave a lot of space, especially since they were both tall; Oikawa, the leggy bastard, had alternated between tangling his feet with Hajime’s, and childishly kicking him in the ankles whenever he’d been losing. It was funny then, but Hajime wished fervently now that he could get up, or at least _stretch._ They’d been streaming nearly nonstop for eight hours today, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, knee-to-knee.

And then he could escape the gloating that was definitely, one-hundred-percent positively about to take place.

(He really should've known it would turn out like this, but when Oikawa challenge-tweeted him to a day-long live tournament for a charity stream, Hajime's stupid competitive lizard brain had apparently forgotten that Oikawa would absolutely destroy him in any and all games that required even a modicum more strategy than hair-trigger reflexes.)

“That brings the final results tooooo… Me, twenty-five wins, Iwa-chan, twenty-two.” Oikawa circled his total and drew a winky face in his column, then held up the notepad to the webcam and waggled it. He was practically vibrating with smugness. Hajime muffled a groan.

“You know what that means! After hours of duking it out, the winner of the GOzilla v. KING all-star mega multiplayer marathon, surprising absolutely no one, is Oikawa-san!”

Hajime jabbed him hard in the side, forcing Oikawa to interrupt his own cheering with a startled, laughing yelp.

“You’re talking major shit for a three point difference,” he groused, and reached over the keyboard to pull Oikawa’s mug of lukewarm tea closer, shooting him a pointed look.

They had a webcam going, a feature of their let’s plays that Hajime hated and Oikawa insisted was non-negotiable ever since their first collaboration. Though Hajime despised the face camera, the upshot to the routine madness of playing alongside Oikawa was that Oikawa also provided nonstop commentary as they played, sparing Hajime the need to talk much. Unfortunately, Oikawa would also neglect to take breaks or hydrate, and raspily tease Hajime later and at great length about being both the beauty and brains of their sometimes-operation.

Oikawa tipped the mug in silent salute and sipped as he glanced down at his phone, where he was monitoring the chat feed for today’s stream. “Iwa-chan, you remember the deal, don’t you?”

Boy, did he. “Ugh, you’re already gonna rub this in my face for weeks, do we still have to do this?”

Oikawa let out a scandalized gasp, the drama queen. “Are you backing out of the _bet_ ? Iwa-chan’s subscribers,” Oikawa said, redirecting his attention to the webcam, “You know _I’d_ go through with your dare if _I_ lost, but, well, that sure didn’t happen, so -–”

That one earned Oikawa a headlock. Hajime ignored Oikawa’s indignant squawking as he collared him and stared down the camera. He wasn’t a coward; let no one say Hajime turned tail and ran from certain death, or at least certain humiliation. “Ignore him, I’m not backing out. If you’re one of Shittykawa’s followers and you donated during the stream, you can put in a dare and Oikawa’ll pick one I gotta do.”

He scrubbed his knuckles roughly through Oikawa’s hair one more time and released him–sternly making himself ignore how smooth Oikawa’s hair felt through his fingers-–and together they bent to look at Oikawa’s phone, now scrolling faster than ever.

 

 **[17:51]:** of course Tooru won!! He’s our KING <3<3<3

 **[17:51]:** lol wonder what he’ll pick

 **[17:51]:** STRIP TEASE lmao

 **[17:52]:**  if u guys played more fps it wouldve been gozillas win :^) js

 **[17:52]:** I DARE YOU TO KISS TOORU

 **[17:52]:** omfg wat lol

 **[17:52]:** WHAT

 **[17:52]:** OMG YESSSSSS!! Kiss!

 **[17:52]:** WITH TONGUE

 **[17:52]:** KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS

 **[17:52]:** wtf kind of dare is that

 **[17:52]:** fanservice pls

 **[17:52]:** KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS  

 **[17:52]:** <nowkiss.PNG>

 

 _What._  

Hajime abruptly sat back, resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands, or perhaps throw himself out the nearest window. It felt like he was experiencing some kind of intense thermal shock: snug and overwarm one moment, electrifyingly cold the next. _Fuck._

This went beyond humiliation-–there was no way Oikawa would pick that dare, or at least Hajime hoped he wouldn’t. He stared in abject horror at Oikawa’s phone as more messages rolled in; Oikawa’s ridiculous fan base had now apparently united behind the rallying cry _KISS HIM_ , and were spamming sparkly, kissy kaomoji relentlessly.

Inanely he wondered why they were so invested in this particular dare, and Hajime opened his mouth to say something snappish about coming up with something more creative, or, shit, _literally_ _anything else_ , but-–

“Mmm, I suppose the internet has spoken,” Oikawa said.

Hajime’s head whipped up so fast he almost headbutted the other boy on accident. Oikawa’s eyes were gleaming with mischief, but the way he was smiling down at his phone… for once it wasn’t his dumb, smirk-y smug face, or the dazzling modelesque smile that inspired Oikawa’s fans to line up for hours for a convention panel just so they could holler their adoration at him.

It was small and wistful and it made Hajime’s heart twist unbearably in his chest. It made him certain that this-– _thing_ between them, the nebulous here-and-gone-again sweetness they'd been dancing around-–it didn’t deserve to be played off like a joke, or exploited for a higher view count. Certain that he didn’t want the feelings he’d been nursing for months to be mistaken for anything less than terrifyingly, wholeheartedly sincere.

Snapping to his senses, Hajime groped overhead furiously for a moment, muted his mic, and then leaned over and muted Oikawa’s, too. “You can’t be serious,” he hissed as soon as he was sure they couldn’t be heard anymore.

Oikawa blinked innocently. “You lost, Iwa-chan. You’re supposed to give our loyal fans what they want.” He turned to the still active face camera to shrug exaggeratedly and mouthed _sore loser._ (Out of the corner of his eye, Hajime saw the text wall of _KISS HIM_ and ☆.｡.:* _(ʃƪ ˘ ³˘)♥(˘ ε˘ʃƪ)_ _.｡.:*☆_ scroll up, displaced by a version of that stupid _now kiss_ meme with _their fucking faces photoshopped in._ Holy shit, that was quick.)

“Look, I know we agreed to this dumb penalty bet or whatever, but we can't-–I don't…”  Hajime thought his face might combust if he had to finish this sentence. He didn't like where this was going, or the suddenly indecipherable tilt to Oikawa's brows, the way Oikawa also sat back in his chair, installing a careful distance in the warm space they’d just shared.

At the very least, their audio wasn’t being broadcast anymore. That minor assurance-–plus the sudden, viscerally powerful impulse to erase the delicately guarded hurt in Oikawa’s eyes-–lulled Hajime into a false sense of security as he blurted out, panicky and gruff, “I don’t wanna kiss you for the first time on a fucking live feed just because your fangirls want me to.”

Later on, he’d never forget the way this moment crystallized, laughably mundane as it was: the game audio looping again, a crash of cymbals deafening in the quiet between them. The flashing red and yellow hues from the monitor, throwing their rosy glow over Oikawa’s lovely familiar face and tousled hair, light catching in his eyes as they widened minutely and then narrowed again, thoughtful.

“Would you wanna,” Oikawa asked softly, “If you knew it wasn’t just my fans that really wanted you to?”

His breath caught, crackling, in his throat. Distantly Hajime wondered how much jeering he'd have to put it up with from his friends and Oikawa’s fans if he just dropped the controller still clutched in one numb hand and pitched the hated webcam across the room, freeing him up to catch Oikawa by his stupid gorgeous face and kiss him blind.

“And,” Oikawa said, shattering Hajime’s increasingly distracted thoughts. He peered at Hajime through his lashes, and goddamnit, he was still smiling _like that._ The soft look, the one that usually slipped out at 3:00 am when they were both delirious from editing videos, laughing together, too tired to pretend any more that working together was for any purpose other than the simple fact each craved the other's company. “You said… ‘for the first time’?”

Hajime hadn’t planned on confessing during a stupid fucking play stream, but he really should have learned by now that things never went according to plan whenever Oikawa got involved.

“Yeah, well,” Hajime muttered, and forced down the urge to cover his face again. He twitched when he felt Oikawa’s hand flash up to cradle his cheek, but he squeezed his eyes shut, turned his burning face into that broad palm. “I was… pretty sure there was going to be more than just one first-last time. Or, I mean. I hoped.”

One long beat passed--and Hajime flinched again when Oikawa straightened so he could switch one mic back on and announce, louder and cheerfully business-like, “Well, you still owe us one for the stream, Iwa-chan, so please make it count!”

Stung, Hajime jerked away from Oikawa’s hand-–only to be met by the other, cupping his jaw as Oikawa tugged him closer, the controller tumbling from his lap, forgotten. When Hajime met his gaze, Oikawa’s camera-ready grin softened into raw affection once more and he whispered shyly, soft so the audio wouldn’t pick up on stream: “But Iwa-chan, I’d really like a round two, too…”

God, Oikawa was so gaudy and ridiculous and _overwhelming_ , and yet… Hajime could deal with the permanent death of his dignity if it meant Oikawa would indeed stick around for a round two, or three, or maybe ten.

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” Hajime rumbled against Oikawa’s lips, and kissed him-–once for the dare, and then again and again, just because he wanted to.

**Author's Note:**

> [View the accompanying artwork for this gift fic on my tumblr!](http://evercelle.tumblr.com/post/171008644925/hey-player-two-read-on-ao3-two-chairs-drawn-up-to)
> 
> (You can be absolutely certain matsuhana were watching the stream and that they had that meme locked and loaded for weeks lol)


End file.
